Night of the Flying False Fangs

Hash Trash for Run #1314 Blakiuh Swimming Pool 1-Apr-2017

Grand Master Night Jar had just finished enlightening us on the origins of April Fools’ or All Fools’ Day and then regaling the throng with a side splitting rendition of “I Used To Work In Department Store In Chicago (but I don’t work there no more)” last Saturday evening. An appreciative crowd roared their approval and gave him a hearty “Glory Glory Hallejulah” with a side order of a down-down administered by Grocer John.

Perhaps it was a change of lager from the usual Bali Hai to the somewhat more fortified Diablo, but something did not agree with the Grand One’s tonsil environment and the amber article came racing back with a vengeance. It was something you don’t see often with the G.M., he usually likes to keep his beer where he deposits it. But on this occasion not only did the liquid for jolly good company come gushing back up at speed, but it was accompanied by his false teeth, and I tell you I was glad not to have been in the trajectory path of those urgent projectiles.

The countryside around the Blakiuh pool echoed with the ejaculated enquiry “Where’s my facking teeth?” and helpful souls (not me) rushed into centre circle to assist with the search brandishing various forms of illumination. It was a mercifully short period before the miscreant molars, wayward canines and peripetatic bicuspids were located and returned to their rightful owner. They were not damaged in any way or crushed under a well-meaning Hash shoe, fortunately.

Night Jar replaced them in their customary location and muttered something like “Everybody can stop looking now”. And the drama had come to a close, the curtain was down on the highlight of the circle. Just thought I’d mention it. To those who weren’t there, more fool you. And Night Jar, I’m not taking the piss, you must admit it was pretty funny.

In what has become a recent Hash device last week’s was a great run employing rarely used areas in sparklingly novel ways at an oft-used Hash site, re-Hashing, if I may (Har). Is it possible that Hares have actually been reading the Trash and thus following this trend or is it a complete co-inky dinky? I’m going with the latter. As of last count I have a readership of approximately three and I suspect those of harboring problems in the reading ability area, or at least being challenged in that of literary taste. But I jape, for no apparent purpose other than word count.

In last Saturday’s case it was the Blakiuh Pool car park(s) in which we found ourselves. It’s not as if we haven’t been there before but Hares Black Forest and co. managed to find trails and byways that weren’t that familiar despite the location being evidently changed at the last minute. There was (ahemmedy hem) something of a excess of asphalt in the opening stages of the run and perhaps an over reliance of paddy in the final leg but the jungle section in the middle was undiluted magic. As one circle wag put it – the middle bit was the best run of the day.

A reasonably entertaining interlude which I’ll call “The Battle of Odin and Thor” developed in mid paddys between Dancing Queen (a tall Swede) and Horny Herring (a taller Norvegicus). It proceded thus: “Vhy are jou yust yumping in front of me Horny? Are jou yust too embarrassed to be behind like jusual”. “Nooo, Because I am yust a betterr runnerr than jou”. I almost expected the ultimate Scandinavian gauntlet to be thrown down: “Do you vant to have a drinkink competition?” (Delivered in sing song, hurdy gurdy tones.) But it didn’t come to that, them’s fightin’ words among Norsky folk.

Meanwhile, back at the Rancho Circle “P” (Pissartists) a multitude of virgins were slaughtered with wet and rubbery shrubbery and Jangle Balls sang “Ghost Hashers in the Sky” (again) for our many Seppo guests, one of whose Hash name was “Shut the Fuck Up”. A lot of fun was had with that. Being April Fools’ Day Donald Trump’s assassination was announced to deafening approval, you could hear it in Sumbawa. Some wise American quotes were recited such as former G.M. CEO Lee Iococca’s gem “We have to ask ourselves ‘how much clean air do we need?’ ’’ and anti-smoking campaigner Brooke Shields’ “If you die you lose an important part of your life.” Indeed, if not your brain.

Anyway, we all enjoyed it, the circle that is, not dying, and look forward to a reprise next week at Bali Gula with Pussy Delivery and Rabid Mangy (GOOD JOB) Dog.